


At Your Pleasure

by Cupcakemolotov



Series: Dance with the Devil [41]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Regency, Blackmail, F/M, Gambling, Lord Mikaelson, Murder, NSFW, Oral Sex, Smut, Theft, not Salvatore friendly, thief!caroline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 12:44:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14749109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cupcakemolotov/pseuds/Cupcakemolotov
Summary: Its turns out to be a mistake when Caroline saves the man bleeding out in her garden. He repays her kindness by showing back up with constables. Fleeing, she doesn't expect for him to follow or for there to more than meets the eye.





	At Your Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, it’s finally done. HAPPY SUPER BELATED BIRTHDAY @howeverlongs! I hope you like this one!
> 
> Everyone can thank @garglyswoof for making sure this wasn’t a super hot mess of terrible. And for Sophie, who answered my questions about constables and homes and titles because I confuse myself. I imagine I got a few of the historical details wrong, but google tried to teach me. All failings are my own.

Caroline shut the door to her tiny room in the inn carefully, heart pounding wildly in her chest. She could’ve been mistaken. Southampton was a long way from her little widow’s cottage.

It’d only been a flash of short, wild curls and the edge of a jawline, but she’d fled anyway. Against the wood of the door her fingers trembled with exhaustion and the rush of adrenaline. She closed her eyes tried to calm her pulse, to think.

Her ship left tomorrow. It’d take her home to a world she’d left behind and the regrets that lingered there. If whatever gods or fate that existed in this world cared for her even an iota, she’d outrun Sir Alaric and his little collection of men just far enough that she’d make it onto that ship. But this cold, green country was too small, with too many secrets, and so she’d prepared for the odd chance that escaping via ship was impossible. She’d tucked everything she need to survive into the pockets of her petticoats, including several of the pieces of jewelry she’d stolen.

She wouldn’t return to her mother penniless.

Sir Alaric was meticulous, but slow, and outrunning him was a possibility. She was good at hiding, better than Alaric knew, and she had no tethers to hold her until she could escape. She’d prepared for every eventuality, except for one. That Klaus would look for her. That he’d find her.

If the profile she’s seen had been Klaus, what could he want?

If anything, he owed her, and there was no reason to chase her across England. She had asked for nothing from him and she’d stolen nothing that belonged to him. Foolish perhaps, but she’d trusted him. She’d thought… she’d hoped…

_“Hold still,” Caroline said sternly, lips pressed tightly together as she endeavored to ignore the warm skin and muscle beneath her hands. Blue eyes that were too pretty for her to be comfortable studied her with an intensity that had only grown worse as he had healed._

_“It is fine, Caroline.”_

_Her gaze flickered up, something in her chest twisting with a feeling she couldn’t name when she found such indulgent amusement on his face. Irritated for letting him get to her again, she pursed her lips. “I barely managed getting you up the stairs the first time. If you die, you’ll end up rotting here.”_

_His fingers caught hers, and she stilled as they wrapped around her wrist gently. The solemnity mingled with laughter behind his eyes set butterflies off in her stomach. “I don’t believe there is much fear of that now, sweetheart.”_

He’d lived and damn her, she’d let him go. She’d chosen his safety over her own and he’d repaid it by bringing constables to her doorstep. Caroline’s fingers curled tightly together, jaw clenched to hold in the emotions she’d tried very hard not to acknowledge.

And now Klaus might be here, chasing her, and escaping him a second time would be near impossible. There was an intelligence behind Klaus’ gaze that had unnerved as much as it had enticed. He’d read her so easily and she’d enjoyed his focus being centered so squarely on her every thought, her every motivation.

He’d coaxed her into a false sense of security and she’d made assumptions when she’d known better than to do so. The concern and hesitation as she’d slipped him to freedom, his stumbling steps heavy against hers, had lingered in her memory for weeks as she had worried about him. But it had been the feel of the calloused pad of his thumb brushing along the curve of her mouth like a promise that had haunted her. It’d followed her into her dreams and her rest had been sporadic as she slept in the bed he’d filled with his presence. She’d never slept in the same bed as him, crowding into the unused servants quarters, and still the bed had felt empty and cold without him. The room smelled wrong without him there.

And then one morning, there he had stood in her garden.

It’d been too early for visitors with dawn not yet a memory in the sky. For a moment she’d thought he’d been a mirage. A ghost, perhaps, in these strange English hills. Real or not, he’d been a punch against her senses the way he always had been, even half-dead and delusional in her bed. That morning, Klaus had looked better for the rest and care she’d hoped he’d received from his family.

The hair she’d raggedly shorn to combat his fever had been neatly trimmed, and the shortened curls had only emphasized the impact of his face. He’d also clearly put on some of the bulk he’d lost in her care, and for a single moment, heat warmed her cheeks when he smiled at her, something dangerous about the promise in his eyes.

Then like any mirage it had shattered but the nightmare had been all too real.

There had been constables behind him, swarming men who had called him Lord. Horror and betrayal slashed through her, leaving invisible gouges. Realizations had sunk in too fast to sort as she’d gathered her skirts. He knew. Klaus was there to arrest Damon. He might be there to arrest her. She’d never survive a full night in the rot of prison. Alaric and Damon would assure her fate.

She’d barely glimpsed the tightening of Klaus’ mouth, the sound of her name barked in a harsh order, but she’d fled anyway.

She’d slipped through his fingers, but barely.

God, seeing him standing with the constables had hurt. From the time she’d been a child, she’d learned to avoid attachments. Her mother, her father, everything about her life had been distilled into what was useful. Her quick, light fingers. Her deft hand at fogery. Her ability to think on her feet in a society where most other women spent their days practicing their needle was useful. Her father had only been proud when she kept his pockets full of coins, and her mother had despaired of what her daughter had become.

She’d known that saving a stranger dying in her garden had been foolish, but allowing herself to care for him? Then those silly, girlish daydreams she had never thought to allow herself before had gone up in smoke the moment she’d learned the truth of his identity. She’d had to hurry, time against her, but she’d looked into him as best she could anyway. Klaus wasn’t a name that had been well known, but Mikaelson was and she’d been left queasy. Lord Mikaelson. For weeks he’d kept her in the dark about his identity. For weeks she’d tried to do the same.

_“Your fever is better,” Caroline murmured, knowing he wouldn’t hear her. Her fingers were pressed against his forehead, and she gave in to the temptation to push a stray curl away from his face. The candle cast the room in shadows, and the silence was broken only by the heaviness of his breathing. A tiny, shivering shard of something she’d refused to allow herself to examine too closely flared hot and bright before she squashed it._

_She couldn’t afford a distraction now._

_Still, the quiet was a balm after an evening spent listening to Damon’s threats, the warm man in the bed she’d abandoned bringing a sense of comfort. Even injured and weak, Klaus had a strange sense of strength that she envied. Her life had been at the whims of others her whole life, and she was so close to having what she needed to run. She’d nearly pilfered the last of the money she’d need to return home, to cross the ocean that had only brought her suffering._

_Just a few more jobs…_

_Caroline froze when Klaus’ lashes fluttered open. The doctored whiskey she’d given him earlier seemed to have slowed his responses, and it took him a moment to bring her into focus._

_“Caroline?”_

_She bit her lip, struggling to hide her reaction to the slurred rasp of her name. He almost mended enough to leave. To return to whatever world, whatever family he’d been cut off from. She ignored sharp pangs in her chest at the thought of never seeing him again._

_“It’s almost time for you to leave,” she whispered. “Is there someone I can contact for you?”_

_The dark of his eyes dipped away from her, lashes lowering to hide his gaze and she swallowed when his fingers clumsily found hers. She’d known asking was likely to be fruitless. Klaus had been tight-lipped even when hallucinating with his fever. It had been as annoying as it had been enduring._

_She sighed in frustration, and he repeated her name in a soft whisper of a sound as he went lax. Caroline blinked hard at the sudden moisture she couldn’t explain. It was best if he left. She was closer to having everything she needed in place to run and he would just be a complication._

_She’d bring up the fact it was time for him leave again tomorrow, when he was more coherent. When she could avoid the touch of his hand, and the fist around her heart as she watched him sleep. Tomorrow._

Forcing her mind back to the present, Caroline could only hope that her disguise would hold. For Klaus to show up the way he had surrounded by constables, there had only been one real conclusion to draw. Damon’s little empire was crumbling to ruin. It was perhaps possible that Klaus hadn’t gleaned bits and pieces of her role, but that didn’t matter. Her brother-in-law would do everything he could to pull her down with him.

Turning back to the room, she paced the tiny space. There was a bed and small table, a single chair but it was mostly clean. Her things were neatly folded and packed, and her plan for tomorrow was simple. She’d hide her hair and slip into the disguise of a woman several years older than her current appearance.

It was likely she was safe in the inn. She was under a false name, and there were dozens in the area. Perhaps…

The sound of a key shifting in her locked door had her spinning, fingers scrambling for something heavy. Her hand closed around her hair brush as the door swung open and her fingers clenched down painfully on the bristles. Klaus stood in her doorway eyes smokey with an anger she recognized, jaw scruffed by a day old beard. The set of his mouth was triumphant and the door shutting behind rang loudly between them.

His gaze burned a line down her figure, the hard set of his mouth and shoulders easing a hair as he took her in. There was something about the cant of his head, the way he watched her, that left her skin throbbing as if he’d touched her. It’d been weeks since they’d been this close, and her fingers and palms knew the shape and feel of him, it was a strain not to reach out to feel this new strength.

Instead, Caroline forced herself to study Klaus with a thief’s gaze instead of a woman’s. It was difficult to do when he stood so easily in front of her, strong and hale. And arrogant. He was dressed simply, the carefully cut fabrics from their last meeting having given way to far simpler clothing. But his stance, the steadiness of his gaze, raised all kinds of warning bells and her insides went hot then cold. She pressed her fingers into her skirts to hide their trembling. Slender and dangerous, this was the potential that she’d seen in the hours before she smuggled him to safety.

How had he found her?

“Nothing to say? I find that a bit surprising, love.” His words were sharply curt, the crisp accent nearly foreign to her ears. His brogue was gone and beneath her skirts her toes curled. A slash of his gaze. “You look exhausted.”

Taking a half step back, Caroline gripped her brush tightly. Part of her wanted to believe in the exasperated affection on his face, wanted to lean into the temper that seemed to stem from her circumstances. The rest of her wanted to demand he let her look at what remained of his knife wound so that she could confirm that he was healed. None of those options would help her get out of the situation she found herself in.

“How did you find me?”

“Not easily.” The curve of his mouth shifted into something predatory and her pulse fluttered. “You’ve led Salvatore’s men neatly about by their noses. If it wasn’t so be gods frustrating that you ran at all, I’d be impressed.”

Before she could get her bearings on how to deal with that, their conversation was interrupted by polite knocking. Her mouth compressed into a tight line as he opened the door and a young boy brought in what appeared to be Klaus’ things. She considered making a fuss, but she was certain Klaus was prepared for such an incident and she refused to give him the satisfaction.

Not a word was said between them until the boy left. Klaus’ gaze never left her face. “Sit, Caroline. You look like you are close to collapse.”

She ignored the mild order. The same as she’d ignored his complaints and demands in the time he’d been unwillingly in her care. Her tone was curt, words sharply bitten off. “And why should I, Lord Mikaelson?”

His gaze remained unblinking at her ire. “Ah, I wondered how long it would take you to discover that little tidbit.”

“That you lied to me?” Caroline demanded. “That your brother is a Duke? Should I be looking for him to barge in next, a train of constables behind him? Will you arrest me as well for whatever crimes you’ve accused Lord Salvatore of?”

“Elijah may be the Duke, but he does so despair of getting his hands dirty. He will cause you no harm.” Klaus studied her from cool eyes. “As you well know, you are not the target of our ire.”

“Why should I believe you?” Her words were sharp between them. “You had no cause to follow me.”

His brow tilted in disbelief. “There are still matters which must be sorted between us, Caroline.”

She flushed as he watched her with eyes that saw too much. Not for the first time did she curse the instincts that had urged her to save him when she’d come across him bleeding in her garden. His jacket and boots had been missing, cheeks flushed with a fever she’d felt before she’d touched his skin. He’d been lucky that the stab wound in his side hadn’t left him bled out. She’d known she should have left him to die and called the constable the next morning.

Instead she’d somehow wrestled him into her home and hidden him from Damon. A thief, she’d thought. One who’d been surly and charming by turns, his words rough as he slowly healed. He’d refused to explain how he’d come to be in her tiny garden no matter what questions she’d asked.

“I don’t agree,” Caroline said flatly, carefully setting the brush to the side. “I foolishly saved you, you had Damon arrested, and now you have chased me across the breadth of this country when all I wish is to return to my mother. If you aren’t here to arrest me as well, then you should leave.”

His smile was a dangerous thing, the hint of dimple a threat. “Sit, love. I mean you no harm.”

Every instinct she had screaming at her to run, to bolt for some semblance of safety, Caroline perched on the very edge of the bed. There was no easy exit except for the door and Klaus was blocking it. Across from her, he sat carefully in the single chair and with far less decorum. Still healing then, for all that he had more color than she could remember seeing in his face even once the fever broke.

Somehow she still found herself worrying about him when it had become increasingly clear she’d misjudged the situation. Temper hot in her eyes, she met his gaze. “What do you want from me now that you’ve hunted me like a dog?”

Klaus shook his head, exasperation clear on his face. “We both know that I’m not the only party interested in finding you, Caroline. There are others looking for you and they do not care for your well-being.”

She couldn’t help the little flinch at the reminder of what fate awaited her if she was caught. Her words were curt when she spoke. “And you do?”

Klaus’ mouth softened as if he saw through her bluster, his voice gentling when he spoke. “You don’t have to worry about Lord Damon, love. He has more problems than he knows how to deal with. As for his men, they will be handled soon enough.”

The silence between them was heavy with the weight of those words, the trust he was silently asking for. Caroline took a bracing breath. “You haven’t answered - why are you here?”

Klaus’ mouth quirked, but if anything he seemed pleased with her determination. “Did you think I would let you run so easily?”

She swallowed at the heat in his gaze, the way the tip of his tongue ran along his bottom lip. There was a sudden crash from upstairs and she flinched at the raised male voices. Klaus’ gaze lifted to her ceiling with a tightening of his mouth before his eyes drifted around them. The room had been a stretch of her available coin, small and neat, but it seemed even smaller now with Klaus there with her. Seemingly satisfied with her inability to run, he relaxed further into the rough chair.

She lifted her chin. “I don’t know why you’d care? I took nothing of yours.”

He made a rough noise of disbelief, gaze narrowing. “Did you not?”

Caroline looked away, lips pressed tightly together. The silence between them stretched, and she stubbornly kept her eyes on the small window. Klaus finally sighed, voice deep and rough when he spoke.

“Shall I tell you what I know about the scheme you found yourself in? Lord Salvatore was ambitious with his targeting, and not all those he chose to steal from were friendless,” Klaus said. “He was interfering with a number of businesses.”

“You speak of the highwaymen that have not yet been caught. I fail to see what that has to do with me?” she asked politely, holding herself stiff as she glanced at him.

Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth at what they both knew to be a lie. “Willful ignorance doesn’t suit you. We have suspected Lord Salvatore for months. He was too eager to show off his flow of new wealth and the attacks weren’t particularly subtle in their targets for their blackmail schemes. All of them were aligned against his public interests or had offended him on a personal level.”

“I am merely his dead brother’s wife, I don’t know how you’d expect me to know any of this.” She kept her voice carefully even though she knew it was pointless; Klaus had come prepared for this conversation. It was clear that all those days she was struggling to avoid letting him in, he’d been studying her and everything around it. She’d let herself be distracted by dimples and a unrelenting curiosity and she’d known better.

She’d let herself care. Still, she didn’t see any reason to cooperate. Not as angry as she was with him. His mouth twitched, as if her baleful stare and refusal to admit what she knew amused him. That he seemed to be enjoying himself left her itching to throw the brush at his head. Eyes bright, he continued on as if he couldn’t read the possible violence on her face or as if he wished she’d try.

“We assumed it was your late husband who originally developed the blackmail scheme as Lord Damon isn’t known for his many plots of grandeur actually succeeding. Up until recently, the Salvatore Estate was swimming in debt. Surely you’re aware of the rumors surrounding your nuptials to Stefan? Bringing back an widowed American as his bride made quite the stir.”

A knot sat inside her stomach. It hadn’t been coin Stefan had hunted. Instead, she blinked slowly and widened her eyes. “And what does my marriage have to do with Damon being arrested? Stefan is dead.”

“Come now, love. I think the time for soft denials is over, is it not? Lord Damon has tipped his hand too baldly. It is astonishing that he managed to keep the charade going for so long, and if not for my attempted murder, he may have gotten away with it a bit longer.”

“You were robbed,” she said sharply, facade falling away at the reminder of his injury.

Klaus’ head tipped to the side, disbelief written clearly on his face. “We both know you didn’t believe a word of my story when I gave it to you.”

She set her teeth and refused to think of that morning with Klaus half-naked in her bed and surly, and how the tables had turned and now she was the one being interrogated. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head. “They took your boots, your jacket, and your horse ran off. That is what you said.”

“Street urchins. Children taking advantage of a situation I shouldn’t have found myself in.” His chin dipped and his voice was dry as dust when he spoke. “Surely you didn’t imagine one of them had slipped a knife into my ribs?”

Her fingers flexed in silent agitation. His blunt words brought back a flash of his blood between her fingers, the ragged breaths in his throat as she’d stitched the wound. He’d been a stranger then. Now she didn’t know what to call him.

“Why should I have thought too much on it? It was difficult enough keeping you alive without worrying about why you were dying.”

“Such pretty lies you tell,” Klaus drawled. “You’ve betrayed too much, Caroline, for those words to be true. I know who you are. Don’t you think it’s time to drop the charade, as amusing as it has been? There is little point. Aren’t you tired of hiding, sweetheart?”

Lifting her chin, Caroline curled her fingers tightly into her palms, the bite of pain centering her. He had her cornered. They both knew it. Hissing out a breath, she pushed to her feet.

“What do you want? For my admittance that I’m a thief? That I’m good at it? That I enjoy it? That Stefan married me because my father promised I’d be useful?” Caroline flung out a hand in agigitation. “Is it not enough that you have arrested Damon? Must you harass me as well? I saved you, if you recall.”

His gaze was unblinking. “How long have they been blackmailing you?”

“How do you know about that? You shouldn’t know anything about that.” Her voice shook. He couldn’t know about Stefan’s deal with her father, the livelihood she’d bought her aging mother with her corporation. Damon’s attempt to hold her crimes over her head and to force her cooperation by reminding her that he could render her penniless and destitute, and more importantly, her mother.

“Should I not?” Klaus queried. “I admit, it took me some time to put the pieces together. You were always a bit more liberal with the whiskey the nights you thought Salvatore would visit. At first I thought it was an attempt to keep me quiet, then I realized it was an attempt to keep your secrets hidden.”

Caroline refused to flinch away from his words, even as they fell like blows. “How much did you hear?”

“Not enough. Not nearly enough,” he replied as he began to pull off his gloves. The sight of his palms, the long length of his fingers, shouldn’t have made her heart pound. There was very little of Klaus she hadn’t seen in those first few days of care, and if she’d had a reputation to protect, it’d have been utterly destroyed if anyone had learned of her actions. But it was the signet ring on his little finger that lit up her nerves with tension. No commoner would brazenly wear such a ring.

“So what now?” Caroline questioned tiredly. “Is there a constable waiting to deal with me outside as well? Shall I be carted off to join those who have become the focus of your ire?”

An arrogant lift of his brow and his gloves made a soft sound as he tossed them onto the table. “Certainly not. They would not have arrested you two days ago, either.”

Caroline snorted, uncaring if he found the sound to be unlady like. “Of course they would have. Do you think Lord Salvatore would have let me be? You seem to know the part I played so why would you think a magistrate would find me innocent?”

“You named yourself thief,” Klaus said. “The blackmail began in earnest after your arrival in England. I can guess, Caroline, but I do not know. I would like to.”

She shook her head, a curl tumbling free. “Why? I’m just a girl of no import. If you have no desire to toss me to the wolves, then my history should not matter.”

She spun away from him and faced the window before he could reply, arms crossed as she worried her lip. She didn’t move when she heard Klaus shift to stand behind her, the heat of him warm along her spine. She swallowed harshly as a single fingertip traced slowly down the nape of her neck. His proximity should have alarmed her. She should have moved to put space between them. She should have turned to slap his hand away. Instead she wanted to press back and see if his skin was as smooth and warm as she remembered. Stefan had been pleasant enough in their bed but he never made her skin burn with a look alone.

“Salvatore was a fool,” Klaus said softly. “When we searched his office, a number of documents were found stashed in his office. He seemed surprised that they existed.”

Caroline sighed, head tilting in defeat. “That’s because he made quite the show of burning deeds and letters once I had altered them.”

“Did he?”

“Damon rarely spent time in his office and the lock was shoddy.” She shrugged without opening her eyes. “It’s as easy to make two forgeries as it is one.

His laughter was soft between them and she swallowed harshly.

“Why were you stabbed?”

The words escaped without her permission, and he sighed against her skin. She shivered as the wet heat of it brushed against her ear and his fingertips circled a knot on her spine. She bit the tip of her tongue to keep from leaning into his hold. Klaus had always pushed the boundaries of propriety with her, and she’d found herself looking forward to those little touches. It had been how he’d coaxed her into a number of conversations that she should have never allowed to happen.

“A miscalculation. We knew the Crown’s men were getting close to narrowing down the list of suspects. Elijah thought it prudent to offer Damon a single chance to correct course before we ruined him.”

Caroline spun around and stared at him with surprise clear on her face. Her eyes searched his, her gaze full of disbelief. “Before you…”

Klaus’ palm came up and delicately cradled her jawline, and her own fingers clenched tightly in her skirts. There was something about how he touched her now, the purpose behind his eyes and the strength in his hands, that left her skin hot.

“Before we ruined him,” he repeated. “It is a task I have enjoyed. I will not allow you to be a sacrifice on his pire of arrogance.”

She laughed bitterly. “Why should I believe you? Particularly since you are not some commoner as you’d led me to believe. Do you have no sense? You should have dismissed me entirely or had the good sense to fear entrapment.”

His hand dropped away to catch her tightly clenched fingers. When he lifted them between them, his eyes were dark as he traced the lingering stains. “I believe it started with your hands.”

Caroline blinked, thrown. “My hands?”

“The first memory I have of you is your hands on my face, your fingers in my hair.” His gaze traced the lean lines of her fingers, the nails cut short. “I want you to touch me. I want these fingers and this palm, so careful and precise as you mapped the dips and hollows you watched with such covetous eyes as I healed.”

A flush worked its way up her throat and her cheeks burned. “Klaus.”

He brought her palm to his lips, eyes hot as she uttered his name. “You can’t entrap a willing captive.”

Caroline shook her head, her heart lurching into her throat. “You cannot be serious; you don’t know me.”

“Perhaps I am a fool, but what secrets could be so terrible that those weeks spent in your bed did not teach me?”

“You nearly died. Surely you cannot trust your own judgement in such a situation.”

He kissed her knuckles, a quick, hot brush of his mouth that stole her ire and left her breathless. “I am most thankful for your care, love. But you are wrong if you believe me to be incapable of making my own decisions. Even before you took it upon yourself to tend my wound, Lord Damon Salvatore’s pretty American sister-in-law was a curiosity. I did not expect you to be such an underhanded little thing, and Salvatore clearly doesn’t understand what he tried to hold captive. I am not so foolish. I know exactly who and what you are, Caroline.”

She stared at him, breathless with emotions she couldn’t name. His mouth curved upwards, and his thumb moved to stroke over her lips, his gaze hungry. His touch held the same needy little rasp across her lips as from the night he’d been spirited away, and she bit the inside of her lip to hold in a gasp.

“You are the brother of a Duke,” she finally replied. “My father is a thief. I assure you, you cannot know me. Our lives are nothing alike.”

Impatience flickered through his eyes. “Tell me, Caroline. Have you ever wondered why no details were forthcoming about your husband’s death?”

She blinked at the swift change of conversation. “What? Stefan? He died in a carriage accident. What details could have been missing?”

“Elijah killed him,” Klaus said bluntly. There was no pity in his eyes for the man who’d once been her husband. “He attempted to blackmail Katerina, much to his detriment.”

Caroline stared at Klaus, trying to understand what he was telling her. Katerina was a name she recognized and heat touched her cheeks as she recalled those letters to a mysterious E. She cupped her elbow with her palm. “I did not mourn him.”

His laugh was soft and throaty. “I know.”

She licked her lips. There was a wealth of meaning in those two words and she didn’t know what to make of it. She suddenly didn’t know how much of her life actually he knew. How much Damon had told. “How did you find me, Klaus? Sir Alaric has not yet managed it, and he believes himself to be a superior tracker.”

His smile widened, something like affection softening the edges. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment paper. She took it from him carefully, and her breath hitched as she unfolded the paper to find her face staring back. It appeared to be one afternoon where she’d been resting after dealing with both Damon, and then Klaus, at their most cantankerous. Tired, hair loosened from an afternoon of work, the soft lines gave the viewer the suggestion of great affection.

Her fingers shook just a little as her gaze lifted to search his eyes. This was not a sketch done quickly by a thief on a hunt, but the work of a man who had spent time on every line, every shadowed lash. “That’s cheating.”

Klaus’ gaze glittered. “There might be a painting or two. I don’t do well with time spent sitting idle as you’re aware. And I was forced by my collection of siblings to stay put when I knew how close you were to slipping through my fingers. It was either I paint or go mad with impatience.”

She worried her lip briefly, shiver running down her spine as his eyes dipped to follow the motion of her teeth. “Why paint me at all? You’ve known me mere weeks.”

An imperious arch of his brow. “You continue to say those words as if they have meaning.”

Caroline balled her free hand into a fist. “Do not mock me. Perhaps you did not lie to me directly, but you deliberately led me to certain conclusions. I risked more than you know getting you away from Damon, and here you are, hunting me with a sketch of my face and few explanations. I will not assume one more whit of information about you, my lord.”

Klaus’ gaze narrowed and his head tipped to the side as he studied her, eyes hot and determined. “Why save me at all?”

She blinked and then frowned. “What?”

“If the risk was so great, why save me?” Klaus repeated. “Lord Damon could have discovered my presence at any time or I could have been a threat to you once I regained my strength. You should have let me die in your garden.”

“Yes,” she agreed sourly. “And if I’d realized what difficulties you’d cause, I might have.”

“Caroline.” His voids was coaxing, amusement and exasperation clear on his face.

She shook her head. “No. Why should I continue to explain myself when you only offer hints and useless tidbits? I owe you nothing else.”

They stared at each other and the air between them heated with too many unsaid words. Her fingers crumpled her skirts as he studied her beneath narrowed eyes. Finally his head dipped in silent agreement, his words soft and firm.

“My meeting with Lord Salvatore was a courtesy. The Salvatore’s attempts to blackmail my sister-in-law had already led to his brother’s death. Elijah considers himself mannered, and he felt that issuing yet another warning was decorous. He does not lightly ruin the lives of his peers.”

Caroline impatiently pushed hair that had fallen free of her chignon away from her face. “Damon didn’t care about Stefan except for how he’d be useful. Particularly once Elena died. Whatever warning you delivered would have gone unheeded.”

He made a low noise of agreement. “Yes. But Elijah likes to lord his benevolence over the rest of us. Dukedom has only exacerbated the tendency I’m afraid.”

“But…” Caroline hesitated before shaking her head, lips pressed tightly together.

“But?” Klaus murmured, voice coaxing.

“Why be courteous at all?” She shifted her weight, fingers rubbing the paper she still held nervously. “I saw his bookkeeping. Very little of Damon’s income came from legitimate sources. What exactly does your family do?”

Klaus eyes gleamed. “And was this little excursion into the bookkeeping before or after Lord Salvatore thought his blackmail sufficient to hold you?”

“Before,” she admitted reluctantly. Once Stefan had died, her plan to steal the Salvatores blind and to send her mother enough money to live out the rest of her life comfortably had altered. The risk of being caught had become very real as what had started as a small blackmail scheme had turned into brutal thievery when Damon had recruited Alaric, and she’d found herself walking on eggshells. Useful, Damon had called her as he studied her little forgeries, but stupid. Caroline had been very, very careful not to discourage that mindset as she’d worked to escape.

His laughter was husky, and it felt like a caress. “And you wonder why I adore you.”

Caroline froze, eyes wide.

“As for your question, the estate produces its own income.” Klaus drawled, amusement bright behind his eyes. “Our father was a miser, and Elijah did not expect to inherit. Our eldest brother made his intentions to throw us on the street quite clear. Over the years we have developed a number of ventures, some that I think you will find most interesting.”

“But…” she stammered, brows bunched together. “What…”

“Ah ah,” he murmured. “I believe it’s time for you to answer my question.”

Caroline blew out a breath. Adore. As if she should have known it and it’d been the only possible conclusion. But she recognized the intractable look behind his eyes, for all that it’d softened for her.

“Why did I save you?” Caroline shrugged one shoulder, heart lodged in her throat. “In the beginning I suppose it was spite. You were left to die on the estate grounds, which meant you’d run afoul of either Damon or his men. I assumed you were a thief. While your story of being robbed was not convincing, I had no reason to think he’d have been foolish enough to attack the brother of a Duke.”

“And do you usually take in unknown men, love?”

“Of course not,” she said in exasperation. “But I didn’t plan on being in this cursed country much longer, and you were weak enough that if your temper would have been an issue, I could have smothered you. I had hoped that you’d had some information that would make my escape easier. You were annoyingly tight-lipped even when drunk.”

This time his laughter was near silent, his shoulders shaking with it. Arms crossed, she narrowed her eyes. “I fail to see what’s so amusing.”

“It is a good thing that I found you first,” he rumbled, eyes bright with his laughter. ”I’d hate to murder a brother, but Kol will find you fascinating.”

Caroline shook her head. “You speak of your family as if I will meet them. As if such a thing was simple.”

“You’ll find that any number of behaviors are far simpler when your brother is titled,” Klaus said without shame. “I think it will suit you.”

She rolled up the sketch and set it on the table near his gloves to hide her trembling. Her voice was low and rough when she spoke, heart pounding. “You cannot say things like that.”

“Can I not? You may run back to the continent if you insist, for all that your talents would be wasted.” His jaw clenched for a moment but his words were steady. “Damon’s remaining men will not hunt you across the ocean. I will not allow it.”

Caroline swallowed. His threat was a blade but it wasn’t alarm that raced through her. He couldn’t know what that promise meant to her if he could keep it. “We both know that I’ve been named an accomplice. Why do you speak as if there are other choices? As long as I remain here I will be hunted. By Sir Alaric, by the magistrates, by unnamed hunters who I know nothing of but whose ears Damon has bent for revenge.”

Klaus dismissed her warning. “Words from a doomed man and easily dealt with.”

It was her turn to laugh, the sound full of disbelief. “And how do you imagine I escape Damon’s wrath? In this country I am a ward of his household, seemingly dependent on his charity. What choice do I have but to put an ocean between us? To return to my family? I will not spend my life running from ghosts.”

“Come with me to Greta Green,” Klaus said casually while his eyes burned along her face. “No judge would dream of condemning my wife. ”

She stared at him in open shock, heart clamouring in her chest, palms itching to grab his words and take what he offered. Yes. “You cannot be serious.”

“I assure you, I am.”

“Is this some sort of guilt laden proposal?” She rasped, heartbeat wild in her ears. “Because I assure you, I will not trade an old prison for a new one. Twice have I been married, and twice have those marriages been doomed. Why should I risk a third? I’m nearly free.”

Klaus caught her hand and brought her cold fingers to his mouth. His words were coaxing. “I would not. I am not looking for a supplicant, Caroline. Nor someone quiet and demure, a pretty face to hold her tongue and smile. I’m well aware that would lead to the smothering you threatened a short time ago. I want you. All of you. The thief and the woman.”

Caroline sucked in a deep breath to center herself. He needed to understand. “Even if were tempted, Damon will tell the magistrate everything he knows, Klaus. About the letters that I forged. The documents he collected. The blackmail I helped facilitate. He’ll blame me for everything. I did not save you to condemn you.”

His gaze sharpened as she spoke, eyes determined. “I’m sure at one point Lord Salvatore would have done exactly as you say. But I’ve made certain consequences clear should he do so as little as think your name in the near future.”

Her lower lip trembled and Caroline caught it tightly between her teeth. “But I am a thief. American, even. I’m not suited to being the wife of a lord’s brother. My first marriage was built on my promise to give up my past, to be good. I hated it. I like having my own money. I like stealing, Klaus. And I’m very good at it. I might have been forced into my marriage to Stefan, and I may have found their means clumsy and heavy-handed, but I was good at what I did. You cannot want a wife with my hands, for all your pretty words.”

His smile branded her palm. “Yes, I do.”

She made a rough noise of disbelief. “Your brother the Duke certainly cannot approve.”

“Do not let my brother’s stuffy reputation fool you,” Klaus murmured. “He met Katerina betting at a horse race. She proceeded to not only rob him blind but take his dignity with her. And whatever posturing he’d wish to do on behalf of the title, whatever argument he could make would be moot. It was his reasoning that nearly led to my death. I believe Elijah is well aware that he in fact owes you.”

Caroline stared at him with parted lips and wide eyes. Klaus dimpled at her and caught her limp fingers between his. His skin was hot against her clammy palm, and he made a low noise.

“Sibling politics, love. We’re a cutthroat bunch.”

She swallowed, disbelief clear on her face. “You’ve planned this out.”

“I never had any intention of letting you run, Caroline. Every morning that you came stalking into your room after a difficult night to verify that I hadn’t had the good graces to die on you, I wanted you a little more. Every averted conversation, each deflection left me wanting to dig under your skin as deeply as you’d gotten through mine.” His lashes lowered for a moment, hiding his eyes, and when they lifted, his gaze glittered. “I have lots of money. You may have all of it.”

Her laugh was disbelieving. “Are you mad?”

“Of course I am. Did I not say so? My siblings will attest to it, should you ask. If I thought you’d have come with me I’d have taken you with me the night we slipped past Lord Salvatore’s men. I have painted you twice and still I itch to put you on canvas. It’s not just your beauty and your secrets that draw me Caroline, but your brilliance and your temper, your bitingly sharp tongue. The very idea of losing you to Salvatore’s idiocy drove me to madness. But I knew I needed to be prepared for you to learn the truth, and the knowledge that you wanted me too, even as you forced me to chase you across the countryside, gave me hope.”

“Presumptuous,” she rasped, senses distracted by the way his thumb brushed along the veins on the underside of her wrist. Klaus’ smile shifted into a sinful challenge. Only a woman who cared would be crazy enough to risk her freedom to help a stranger, and they both knew it. “Perhaps I do not want you.”

“No?” His lashes lowered as he studied her lying mouth. “How much of your bodice would you be willing to unlace to prove that point?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Klaus!”

His teeth rasped along her thumb and she shuddered, breath hitching at the wet glide of his tongue. “No more running. Marry me, Caroline. Stay.”

Caroline stared at him, thoughts swimming. Every argument she’d laid at his feet he’d shrugged aside. The tiny shard of hope she’d hoarded close to her chest since the moment he’d disappeared into his carriage all those weeks ago had bloomed into a wild tangle in her chest. Klaus had come after her. Knowing who and what she was and guessing the rest, he still wanted to marry her. He wanted her.

But more importantly, Caroline knew he was right, she did want him. All of him. Klaus sleep-rumpled and rumbling his displeasure, the intensity as he poked and prodded her defenses. His sly, terrible sense of humor and his wicked teases. She’d hoped when she thought him a fellow thief, and despaired when she’d realized his lineage because she hadn’t thought him an attainable dream.

A Duke’s brother.

Klaus’ gaze studied her carefully, and his brows furrowed. “Unless my regard is why you chose to run?”

Caroline blinked. “What? No. That’s…”

His brow tilted and she blew out a breath, fingers shaking just a little as she touched his jaw. Swallowing, she felt her face grow hot. “I’m a thief. I come from a family of thieves. I know better than to become attached to anyone.”

Klaus’ expression shifted to something satisfied. “Except with me.”

She wanted to glower at his smugness, but couldn’t manage it. He was right. He had been the exception. And she was so tired of running. “I was furious to learn just how much you’d duped me. I know better. I’m protecting my mother, you see. That is what they held over my head. She has always disapproved of what I have become, but she’s all I have left. Then you… I thought I’d let myself be distracted by pretty lies and I’d read everything wrong. It hurt.

His teeth nipped at her fingertips, something soft and wild behind his eyes. “So you do think I’m pretty.”

“Klaus.”

“Caroline.”

“It was difficult,” she said irritably, eyes flashing that he’d make her admit it, “letting you walk away. I wanted you to come back for me. But then you had constables. Of course I ran.”

“I don’t intend to allow you the opportunity again, love. Assuming, of course, you agree to my proposal.” Klaus swiped his tongue across his lips and she shivered. “I know you, Caroline, and I want both sides of you. Take one more chance. I promise you, it will be worth it. I will not let Salvatore harm you and I will not let him harm your mother.”

Her lips curved into a trembling smile at the impatience in his voice and the way it flashed across his face. Need and want tangled in the roughness of his speech, in the way he looked at her. She could have a lifetime of this, of petty arguments with a man who knew her and wanted her. She was almost terrified to take it.

“Yes,” she said roughly, voice shaking. “Yes.”

His breath rushed in a hot exhale along her wrist, lips parting against her skin. Her fingers twitched in his grasp, and his dimple creased his cheek with the slow, wicked curve of his smile. “Yes, what?”

She pinned him with an exasperated look of her own. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Triumph was rich behind his eyes but there was also relief, and it was the soft, careful brush of his mouth against her palm that decided her. She’d wanted Klaus for weeks, and she didn’t see any need to wait. Not with Greta Green in her future and a bed so close. Glancing at him from beneath her lashes, she traced the shape of his mouth.

“As for my bodice,” Caroline murmured. “It would be easiest if you unlaced it, don’t you think?”

Klaus’ eyes heated and his gaze lowered as he slid his mouth down the curve of her wrist bone, the short stubble on his cheeks a rasp against her skin. She shivered at the edge of his teeth along the delicate veins. “Are you certain?”

She couldn’t help the little breathless laugh. It was his question, strained and careful, that firmed her decision. Turning to allow him access to the ties at her back, Caroline watched him from beneath her lashes. “I have never found corsets to be particularly comfortable.”

Instead of going for her laces, her breath caught when his fingers delved into her hair. Her lashes fluttered closed as he carefully removed pins, deftly unraveling her braid until the heavy length of her curls spilled around her shoulders. The gentle tugs on her scalp as he wound a few curls around his knuckles had her biting down on a sigh. She glanced back to find him studying the colors in the dying light, expression as intent as she’d ever seen it.

“I spent hours getting this shade right, and still wasn’t perfect,” Klaus murmured, twisting his wrist to catch the shades of gold and wheat. His eyes lifted to her face, and the darkness of his gaze skimmed her face slowly. “The pattern of freckles, the shadow of your lashes on your skin. The exact curve of your smile.”

She licked dry lips. “I hate my freckles.”

He laughed softly and let her hair fall away from his hand. His fingers grazed along her neck as he pushed her curls over her shoulders. A tug, and the the stiff fabric of her muslin dress loosened as he finally searched out her ties. “Do you? I find them delightful, and I wonder where else I’ll discover them.”

Caroline turned and studied him as her dress fell away, watched as his eyes dipped along the simple corset and petticoats that had given her dress shape. His fingers skimmed down the boning, his eyes snagging on the extra pockets she had sewn into the skirt of her petticoats. She’d hidden them behind the removable pockets that were going out of fashion but immensely useful for a thief.

“I may only have a passing understanding of petticoats, love, but I don’t believe these are the usual,” he drawled lowly. She let out a breathless laugh and tugged a sapphire earring free from a hidden pocket.

“I like to be prepared.”

He took the jewelry from her hand and studied it before his glittering gaze caught hers again. His tongue swiped across his lips, and his voice had grown thicker when he spoke. “Stolen?”

“Of course.” She tipped her head to the side, a curl falling across her face. “Klaus… there is a difference between knowing I steal, and seeing the fruits of my labor. For all you know, I could have killed the lady I took those from. Are you sure…”

Klaus carelessly dropped the earring, slid his hand into her hair and kissed her. Her lips parted against his and her fingers curled into the softness of his shirt as his tongue licked slow and slick along her bottom lip before delving deeper. Caroline moaned as he nudged her backwards, fingers gripping his shirt hard enough to pop seams as she bumped into the short, sturdy table.

“Am I sure that it doesn’t bother me?” He rasped, lips curling into a wicked little smile. His hands slipped down her neck and shoulders to tangle within the single tie of her corset. It loosened and slipped down her arms to be shrugged off. It landed at their feet and the feel of his palms were hot even through the thin fabric of her shift against her spine. “It leaves me wondering what else you’ve hidden away.”

Caroline watched him from beneath her lashes as her hands smoothed across his shoulders and linked behind his neck. He encouraged her closer, hand sliding lower down her spine and his head dipping so that one of his stray curls brushed across her forehead. “Why don’t you find out?”

He kissed her again, short and sweet, lips hovering over hers when he pulled back. “I will. Every secret. I want to hear every story of your thefts, even the ones you consider mundane. But right now my curiosity will only be sated by you, love. Your taste, your scent, the sounds you’ll make as I touch you. What you like. What you don’t. I have so many questions, Caroline, and several of them will need to wait until we have a bit more privacy than this inn can provide.”

She kissed him them, taking his lower lip between hers before using her teeth. Klaus groaned low in his throat and pulled her flush against him, lips parting against her tongue. She pressed closer, rubbing her nipples against the wall of his chest with a matching sigh. Klaus lifted his head and inhaled sharply through his nose as he took in her wet lips.

“Take off your petticoats.”

She nodded, liking where he was leading, and her clumsy fingers plucked at the ribbon ties. She swore under her breath as the bow snapped, and Klaus brushed a kiss across the arch of her cheekbone before leaning in to help. “So eager.”

Caroline bit the side of his jaw in retaliation, and he shivered against her, fingers faltering. “I’ve had two husbands. Would you prefer I play the blushing, nervous virgin?”

Klaus tangled his fingers in her hair and tipped her head back as her petticoats pooled at her feet. He placed hot, sucking kisses along the length of her neck, and she didn’t mind that one or two might have left a mark. Not when he scraped his teeth beneath her ear, before catching her earlobe delicately. “Hmmm, I like your blushes. Such a pretty shade of pink. I wonder what you’ll allow me to do to elicit them. What if I slid my mouth between your thighs? Would you blush for me if I licked you open, nice and slow?”

She knew her cheeks had grown hot at his blunt words, and her thighs clenched beneath her shift. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he smiled, thumb stroking along her hip bone.

“Did neither of these past lovers of yours bother, Caroline?” Klaus made a low, disapproving sound and reached up to cup one breast in his hand. His thumb circled her nipple into a hard little point beneath her shift, and her breathing sped up. She braced one palm on his arm, the other gripped the table behind her for balance. “As for being nervous? A tiny bite of fear can add to the pleasure, don’t you think? All that anticipation rewarded with a sharp burst of pleasure, hmm? But shame? True fear? They have no place in our bed, Caroline. You will tell me if you don’t like something, do you understand?”

“So bossy,” Caroline rasped, arching her back to press her breast a little more firmly into his palm. “I don’t take orders very well.”

A husky sound and Klaus dipped his head lower to blow a hot breath over her neglected breast, tongue a light tease a heartbeat later. “But what if promise you’ll love the results?”

Her breath stuttered as he carefully caught a nipple between his teeth, the shift blunting the sensation only a little, before sucking strongly with his mouth. Her nails dug into the wood, a moan catching in her throat. She watched his mouth move on her breast with eager eyes, and when his gaze met hers, she swallowed heavily.

“What did you have in mind?”

He squeezed her breast and tilted his head, wolfish eyes studying the damp cloth where his mouth had been. “Up onto the table, Caroline.”

She blinked and dragged her attention away from his mouth to study the small table behind her. “It doesn’t seem very sturdy.”

He kissed her throat, used his teeth on the bare skin just below her clavicle. “It will hold.”

She arched a brow and lifted a hand to card her fingers blindly through his curls. “Do you have experience as a carpenter?”

He nipped her shoulder and teased the faint sting with his tongue as she squirmed. “I want you on the table, so that I can spread your thighs and taste you.”

Caroline felt her flush deepen. “There is a perfectly good bed right there.”

Klaus hummed his agreement, pushing her hair away from her hot face. “The temptation to be inside you would be too great. I assure you, we’ll get there, but right now? Up, Caroline.”

Her toes curled into the floor and she huffed and scooted back, letting him assist her. She pushed the drawing further back, unwilling to squash it by accident. “I’m going to be quite irritated if I get a splinter somewhere delicate.”

His dimples cut deep and she was about to protest his amusement, the words sharp on her tongue, when he sank to his knees in front of her. Caroline’s ire disappeared as he glanced up at her from beneath his lashes, tongue snaking across his lips. “I thought of you like this often, Caroline.”

She allowed him to shift her hips closer to the edge, one of her feet perched on his thigh for balance. Caroline took a deep breath, watching him carefully. “Did you?”

“Hmmm,” he murmured. He smoothed his hands along her thighs, inching her shift up. She shivered as his palms brushed along the exposed skin, her heart pounding in her ears. “Those mornings you came in wearing your sleep braid and heavy robe, so grumpy first thing in the morning. I’ve often wondered if you’d hate mornings quite so much if I woke you with my tongue.”

Her exhale was shaky. “I suppose that depends on just how talented you are with it.”

Klaus chuckled, but it was a rough noise. His hands had bared her to her hips, and with her thighs spread open nothing remained hidden. His gaze traced her burning face before slowly dipping down her body, the hard points of her nipples visible behind her shift, to linger lewdly between her thighs. Her toes curled into his thigh and he shifted closer, breathing deeply with a groan.

“So pretty,” he rumbled as he turned his head to run his stubble across her thigh. The muscles under his palm twitched, and he repeated the motion on her other leg. “You’re so lovely, Caroline.”

His free hand shifted up and his thumb parted her slick folds. She gasped at the first touch, fingers gripping the edge of the table tightly at the second. Klaus took his time, letting her grow accustomed to each new sensation before creating another. Sweat beaded along her temples and at the base of her spine, and there was no stopping the hitching whines she couldn’t muffle, no matter how hard she bit down on her lips. Her arms shook, spine threatening to melt, but watching his fingers move against her left her stomach coiling tightly.

Klaus seemed to notice her fascination, and he blew a warm breath where she was dripping. “Perhaps I’ll invest in a large mirror for our room.”

Caroline had no time to be embarrassed by his words as Klaus leaned forward and ran his tongue soft and as slow as he promised along her folds. She gave up on holding herself up straight, fingers tangling in his hair, the other grabbing his shoulder as she hunched over. “Klaus.”

The noise he made was a questioning hum, but her response become a moan as he licked higher, the tip of his tongue gliding across her clit. Her hips jerked, toes digging into his thigh, and he repeated the motion. Again. And again. Until her breath was a sob in her throat, thighs trembling in his hold. He ducked low again, tongue dipping inside for a lingering taste before his lips closed around her clit and he sucked strongly. She bucked, fingers tugging sharply at his hair as the soft lashing of his tongue sent her reeling into an orgasm. She slumped forward, leaning heavily against Klaus, and he pressed his cheek into her thigh, fingers stroking slowly behind her knee as she struggled her to catch her breath.

“Perhaps,” she finally managed, voice rough from her cries. “I’d be less irritable in the morning. Perhaps.”

He grinned and stood, helping her stand on shaky knees. When he tilted her chin and kissed her, she deliberately licked into his mouth to taste her lingering arousal on his tongue, and her fingers worked to untuck his shirt so her searching fingertips could find the smooth muscle of his abdomen. He groaned, tongue stroking hers firmly before he pulled back. “Against the bed, Caroline.”

She nodded in agreement, shakily crossing the few steps. Klaus hands landed on her hips as she went to climb onto the bed, pausing her movements. “Would you put your hands on the bed for me?”

Caroline glanced through her wild curls and swallowed as she realized he’d taken that chance to lose his jacket and shirt. Her breathing deepened as he bent and removed his boots before his hands went to the lacing on his breeches. She swallowed, finding her voice a hoarse croak. “Do you not like beds?”

He grinned, leaning forward to kiss her shoulder. “Of course not.”

Unable to stop herself, her fingers sought the familiarity of his scar. He shivered at her touch and her eyes lifted to his face. “Are you sure this is a good idea? Perhaps it would better if I were on my knees this time.”

His hand cupped her jaw, thumb brushing across her cheek. There was a familiar tension in his shoulders, and lower, the hard press of his erection was barely contained by his loosened breeches. “A delightful temptation, Caroline. One I’d be delighted to experience any other time. My wound is healed; any lingering soreness is minor. I had an excellent nurse.”

“Klaus…”

He lowered his head and nipped her lower lip. “Bend over for me, love. As much as I’d wish to see your face when I fill you for the first time, I believe you’ll find this position a good compromise for us both. Perhaps later I can convince you to climb onto my lap and play with your pretty nipples while you sink onto my cock, hmm?”

She shivered at the image he painted with his words, a rush of fresh arousal warm in her belly. Sex with Tyler had been an awkward exploration as his Puritan values had clashed with her curiosity. Stefan had only been interested in the marriage bed as a duty. But this…

Rising up onto her toes she twisted to kiss him hotly, tongue stroking into his mouth as his lips parted for her. Pulling back when she needed air, she sucked in a deep breath as she studied his parted lips, as red and wet as her own. Gaze flicking up to his, she stroked his jaw. “I think the mirror is an excellent idea.”

Klaus smile was wicked, dimples on full display. His hand cupped her breast, and his voice was low and coaxing as he murmured his request.

“Hands on the bed, Caroline.”

She considered the position he was asking for and slid a little forward. She felt a little awkward, a little vulnerable, and her stomach jumped as his hands encouraged her thighs wider. Taking a deep breath, she sank into her elbows, her backside brushing against his erection.

“Should I have taken off my shift?”

“In a moment,” Klaus murmured roughly as she heard his pants slither down his legs. There was something tantalizing about still being partially clothed as he stood naked behind her, and she wondered if he’d find it erotic if she did as he’d asked. Sit across his lap naked while he still wore a formal suit, only his cock freed.

The thought brought a fresh rush of wetness, and she shifted restlessly, nipples rubbing against the bedding. She needed to remember to bring it up later, but just then all she cared about was her shift being pushed up over her hips and his low groan of appreciation as Klaus palmed her butt.

He leaned close, the heat of him hot through her shift, and she deliberately rocked back into the curve of hips. The deep noise he made was gratifying, and she shivered as he squeezed her backside in retaliation. He repeated the caress, and she groaned.

“Stop teasing,” Caroline rasped. Widening her thighs, she rocked against him again with a little needy noise. “I thought you wanted to be inside me?”

His teeth caught the edge of her ear. “There is something to be said for patience, Caroline. I want you mindless, sweetheart, the only thought in your head how much you want more.”

“And you can’t do that with your cock?”

His teeth sank into her shoulder in a silent chastisement for her taunt and his hips bucked against hers. Instead of sliding inside her, his cock brushed through her slickness, rocking perfectly against her clit. Her spine arched as he rocked softly against her, her butt rubbing against the taut line of his abdomen with each motion they made. Each teasing thrust grew slicker as he rubbed through her folds and her fingers clenched tightly into the bedding.

“So wet for me,” Klaus rasped as his forearm braced next to her head, the muscles corded with strain. She nodded in agreement, behind any kind of shame for her need for him. She shifted restlessly, breathing coming in heavy pants. His next stroke across her clit had her rising on tiptoe, body heaving as she searched for what she needed.

“Please, no more teasing,” she mumbled hoarsely into the bedding. “Please.”

Her name was a rough utterance against her neck, and then the head of his cock nudged against her entrance and she panted heavily into the bedding. She clenched down tightly on the first inch and Klaus’ cursed against her skin, hips moving roughly against her he filled her. Her whine was loud in the room and she distantly heard chairs scraping above them, the sounds of male laughter faint against the pounding of her heartbeat.

Klaus didn’t seem to care either as he pressed hot, open mouth kisses against her neck, her ear, and his voice was gravel-rough. “You feel perfect. God, Caroline. Utterly perfect.”

Caroline had no chance to respond as he slowly pulled out and glided back in, their moans mingling. He kept his pace as slow as he’d stroked her with his tongue, adjusting the angle of her hips with his hand low on her belly. She stopped worrying about muffling herself when he found a perfect spot inside her, her cry loud. Klaus exhaled sharply, hips snapping against her. Her nails scrabbled against the bedding as the pleasure built, her cries reduced to incoherent pleas.

His fingers slipped between her body and the bed, finding her clit, and on his next thrust she clenched down tightly, body shaking through the burst of her orgasm. His motions picked up speed before he stiffened behind her with one more snap of his hips. He pressed his face into her shoulder, his groan of release quiet compared to her cries, her name uttered between curses.

For several moments, they laid motionless, Klaus’ weight pressing her into the bed, but she didn’t mind as he laced their fingers together. Outside, night had truly fallen and the sounds bleeding through the walls were louder, rowdier, but her focus was on the man behind her. The contentment bleeding through her pleasurable exhaustion.

Klaus finally stirred, his voice as rough as her own when he spoke. “Alright?”

Caroline nodded, squeezing his hand tightly. “It was a pretty good compromise.”

He made a low sound of amusement and pushed himself up. She muttered a complaint as he coaxed her up as well. Her shift clung to her slick skin, and he tugged it away with an impatient jerk.

“So you hate beds and my clothing?” She asked with arched brow as she pushed back her hair with the same impatience he’d treated her shift.

“In our bed, I’ll always prefer you naked.” Klaus said with amusement still thick in his voice. “But beds certainly have their uses. Tell me, Caroline, are you tired?”

She turned to face him, and his eyes dropped to her breasts, his thumb lifting to stroke one stiff nipple beneath his greedy gaze. Any exhaustion disappeared as he licked his lips, eyes hot with desire.

“No,” she said breathlessly.

Moments later, and Caroline found herself exactly where he’d promised, spread across his lap while his knees supported her spine, his fingers slick with their combined release as he toyed with her clit. Her fingers played with her nipples under the devouring darkness of his gaze, his cock pressing against her backside as she moved helplessly against his fingers.

Tomorrow they’d slip away to Greta Green. She’d tell him all about her mother and the life she wanted. Find out all the details she could about this business of his and what had led him to speaking of murder with such cool eyes. The details about his family. How he planned to thwart Damon and Alaric.

But tonight? Tonight belonged to them. And as Klaus helped her onto her knees so she could slowly sink onto his cock, her name a harsh pant in his throat, tonight was all she cared about.

**Author's Note:**

> A few of the things that drove me crazy: pockets, corsets, and dress styles. I probably ended up with more than one historical inaccuracy, but I tried.


End file.
